My Poetry

When You're Not Here

when the wind is so cold
with no one to hold
and the rain is intensely pouring
my tears starts falling

my tummy is aching 
our little honey is kicking
I hope his daddy is here
to brush away her fear

you are far from us
and i wonder if you had your meals
i miss the dinner with you
i wished you miss it too
but tomorrow morning
I shall see you darling
to hug and kiss me and our little honey
and spend the whole day sweetly.



Why can’t I move when
thoughts of are lingering
and mumble restlessly
for answers to find
Can’t I say sorry when
I’ve done something wrong
Or laud when good things happen

why do they say that 
loving you is a mistake
Yet my heart whispers loving
you is the right thing 
I should take
Proving takes time, yes
And if we’re together we shall make

Don’t ask myself why 
I love thee very much
Nor wonder what magic touched
But I know that loving you
shouldn’t start with a question why
Because there shall never a question
for the feelings I have…




My late evening promenade
brought me here,
I walked consciously at the pavement,
Oblivious of the distance I’ve traveled.
I hear crickets hum their own tunes.
Dewdrops glistened as moonlight struck on the grass.
In the midst of nowhere,
It’s paradise, I’m alone.
Under the crescent moon,
I groped, at an slow pace.
With my head downcast,
I saw a shadow,
another figure, thriving for a direction,,..
Like me.
As I looked up, our eyes met.
Doldrums creased on his face.
We exchanged glances,
Gazes akin to feelings.
Like a raconteur, narrating both our past.
Pains and emptiness that spells your suffering,
Fears and longings I harbored.
Silently we talked.
While I willingly listened,
as you whispered softly.
Words only loneliness knew.
Yet, we both understand.
He reached closer to me,
until our body touched.
An embrace, planting more emotions in ou core.
I didn’t refuse in anyway.
No words to say.
Gradually, you moved and held my chin.
You press gently your lips on mine,
Damp and cold.
Suddenly, I turned away and looked
into your eyes… then I cried.
It’s not regret I felt,
nor pain it emanates.
In the serenity of the night,
Your heart raced faster, I can hear
We belong to a different world..I said
It’s not me you need yet..
Time, peace or it’s yourself you ought to find.
“Did I hurt you?”,I asked.
“No.” you replied,
Though I know that you lied.
I looked around and saw the sun
has ascend to the horizon.
Like a wicker in your heart,
Igniting the embers of cheers
Abiding within you for years.
I guess we are a poltergeist of the waking life.
Trying to create a world that only our mind can make.
So the moon bid goodbye for another day to come,
While the cold of the night melts as the sun climbs,
And crickets hum with diminishing sound, We also bid Adieu.
Quietly, I assured, We’ll meet again. I’m sure we will.
Without turning back , we started separately our journey,
A journey no one knows the end.


Twinkling Dull

I heard guffaws,
almost a teary-eyed one
Chuckles of the raw-tongued dwellers echoes
While a panorama of the bygone
gyrated by the window
With an steady gaze
I fastened on, and imagined
Of how many lives had once perched there
From afar you looked like a cage
Where most mortals abide
Faded tinges on the wall tells me
Of how many rains have washed away
The pangs, the arguments and
the gaieties there lies
The melee’ and the yelling
The belligerent talks and sweet quarrels
The endless debate and the betrayals
Dissolved by just one wicked smile
Of how many more sunrise and sunset
will amorously pass
and withstand under the tender heat
with full grasp
Of how many more unspoken feelings
be suppressed
Yet forcefully bursting out
Hiding underneath the haloes of
a blissful visage
Of how many flowers had bloomed
and withered in time
Of how lives were lost
when death kissed goodbye
Murmurs shrieks in throes
I can clearly feel it
With a simple twists, it changes
But changes are not stored
in a tomb of nonexistence
They continuously waver
in and out they come into your door
Under the roof of repulsion, it sheltered
Surrounded by the four corners
of compelled acceptance
I just closed my eyes and asked,,,
” Are you the place they call a ‘house’?”

My Essays

The Hidden Gift

When the breeze is starting to get colder and people becomes so busy around shopping, only one thing comes to our mind, that it’s Christmas once again. Every time this season arrives, I always feel happy despite the fact that I won’t have enough money for the gifts. The thought of going home excites me all the time. Where we would rush for the little groceries for the Noche Buena and make reservations for a ride home.. I might be complaining for the bagful of stuffs I carry but when I imagine of the happy faces I see when we arrive, to see my Mom’s longing looks and a very warm smile, while my little sister busily and eagerly open the luggage, my energy increases. But this Christmas, I don’t know if the season still carry the same feelings. Now that I have hurt and disappointed them, all I feel is pain and guilt. I will miss the moments I prepare and cook the food. When my best friend and me still find time to scoot around the place. Or the sight of my father querying about our plight in the city while I cook. For me Christmas Season were the best times and the only moment I spend with my family. The only month of the year where all of us get together. Laughing, eating, talking and sleeping together like we were still young. I know now that it will be one of their saddest Christmases, like I feel, because of what had occurred. The songs that I used to sing will make them cry as they hear them once again. How I wish I could talk to Santa Claus and cry to him just to grant my wish. That, I hope I could change their feelings and obliterate all the pain I have caused. That, when Christmas Eve comes and I’m not with them, they won’t have to remember me and be sad but to recall me with a smile. That, I hope I could touch their heart to make them feel so dear and especial to me. I just hope. A little while ago my younger sister came to advice that they are going to leave.. I felt a lump in my throat choking me as I control my tears while I write a message to the birthday card I sent for my mom. Every memory of the past seasons with them makes me feel morose. I know it is also difficult for them as it was for me and I am accepting every feeling it brings. I am happy now to where I belong but I cannot deny the fact that I wish I still could turn back the time and spend more days with them. Perhaps, what happened to me considering all, made the picture blurred. Nevertheless, the spirit of the wishes for Santa still comes true and I just have to cling on that faith that the celebration of the birth of the Savior will bring good tidings to all who believe in Him. I realize that I had a gift given to me long time ago and I hardly notice how essential and meaningful it was. I was blessed with a family and with people who love me. A gift I never knew would make me cry every time I wake up looking for that gift. I am sure one day I will find them once again, in proper time and season. And when that time comes, my happiness will be boundless, I know.




Every time I look at him, I feel sadness now. I am guised with guilt that he doesn’t deserve all of these. He was the first man whom I have ever loved and I have ever known. What he did to me was something I will always be very proud of. Those arms so strong that had carried me way back when I almost fell asleep while watching TV. The muscles that shows immense of strength to carry the heaviest load. The same arms that had cuddled me to sleep when I was still a baby. Those hands so calloused due to the carpentry he did for the living. The same hands and arms that whipped me when I did something wrong for me to learn. Whenever I stop my gaze at him, I always remember the sacrifices he swallowed for my own, our own good. There are no visible wrinkles yet at mid 50’s though gray hairs are starting to show and his old age is still far in his countenance. Due to constant strenuous labors, his hands sometimes shake unconsciously and when he reads, he depends now with his lenses. He always makes me feel strong and courageous to be able to sternly fulfill my dreams to make him happy along with my family. That when I broach the topic of a life abroad which they always want me to be, it brightens up his day and crease a very content smile on his face. God knows how much I love him and respect him. But I break into tears as I realize the disappointments I am going to give him now. I know that he was so proud to have me finished my college and marched with me during my graduation. I will never forget that unexplainable happiness I saw in him when I gave him that garland and hugged him to say thank you. His tears are never shallow to appear to identify his great fulfillment because I never saw him cry before us, yet deep inside those eyes his lachrymal glands are already watery. Our diplomas are his proof of his accomplishments that he has been working so hard in his life. I have always thought of making him proud of me and now I am so frightened that all of his boastings about me will suddenly turn to nought. All the courage I have mustered makes me frail to face him and admit my mistakes. I feel so incomplete but on the contrary I am happy. Nevertheless, it doesn’t insinuate that I am keeping remorse to what I did. All I feel is guilt, guilt, and guilt. How could I ever start talking to him? How could I ever explain and make him understand my side with his staid principle? Or with his tenets that are so strong to ruin? Or with his kind of heart? The fears are overwhelming me that sometimes I tend to forget any help, except God. They say that he will understand me because for always a father would. At this kind of time, a room for considerations and understanding is far in the offing.

Today marks the greatest change in my life

Today marks the greatest change in my life, a change that will affect my whole being as a woman and as a member of my family. Little did I know that it happened so suddenly and went awry till it was ironed out. Love worked on me so drastically yet fulfilling in the end. My friends could say that I have turned into a person they no longer knew, someone who doesn’t care anymore of what my family would feel, that I ostensibly became a persona non grata. I honestly could not fathom it the way they should or coerced my brain to imbibe what they think is right. Albeit they have lost anymore the trust they have in me or rather my credibility to carry out those dreams I always have for them, up to now they always come after me…to make them happy once again after all, and realize that I’m still the daughter they used to know. A bigger responsibility now is right on my hands and shoulders and I know I can make it with God’s perpetual succor and the support I would get from the people who love, trust and believe in me.